


Vasa Somnia

by Lady_Cleo



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 00:06:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1584398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Cleo/pseuds/Lady_Cleo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this was inspired by spoilersweetie's brilliant epic "Amor Vincit Omnia". this probably won't make a lot of sense without reading that one, and I recommend you reading it anyway b.c it's that amazing. but here's mine.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Vasa Somnia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spoilersweetie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoilersweetie/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Amor Vincit Omnia](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032822) by [spoilersweetie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoilersweetie/pseuds/spoilersweetie). 



> this was inspired by spoilersweetie's brilliant epic "Amor Vincit Omnia". this probably won't make a lot of sense without reading that one, and I recommend you reading it anyway b.c it's that amazing. but here's mine.

The Doctor awoke in the throne room. How had he gotten here, he wondered. He was kneeling just inside the western column bank. That wasn't right- if he was in the throne room, he should be at River's side, standing just behind the monolithic structure.

But as he made to rise, he found he was fettered: long fine chains of silver and platinum drawn close about him and secured with a blood red, heart-shaped lock. _What was happening?_

Turning his head as far as the chains would allow, his eyes sought River. She sat on her throne and instantly he knew something was wrong. The men that flanked her resembled her council of generals and advisors- except for the strange masks they wore. Her back was ramrod straight- no hint of lounging comfort today. Her face was impassive, blank as a marble slab and twice as cold. Gold dripped from her everywhere: a chain choker embedded with gems, rings on nearly every finger, heavily inscribed gauntlet bracelets that brought to mind shackles, and her gold leaf circlet woven into her curls.

And rather than her usual choice of red, her dress was a vibrant verdurous green, making her eyes glow an emerald fire so dazzling it bordered on the feline. Transcending the mere body of Empress of the Third Province, she looked every inch a warrior goddess, eyes alight with unearthly brilliance. The orbs in question were fixed on something in the center of the chamber, and as he rotated with a muted clinking, the Doctor spotted the object of her focus.

A small girl crouched before the Empress in a tattered slave's uniform, hair tumbling down in loose filthy ringlets. The Doctor found it odd that not only was the garment made of a fine material- similar to one of his mistress's gowns- but that the golden collar around her neck echoed the Empress's strange piece, and her wrists were shackled with linked gold- rather than rope, wood or bronze. And he thought it first a trick of the light, but with each successive glance he noticed her hair switching from golden ringlets shot through with coppery threads to curls of a deep rich brown- nearly the shade of his own floppy locks...

Realization hit him like a kick to the stomach, and he began struggling against his bonds in earnest. As he shifted, he felt the ground beneath him shift as well from the hard stone floor of the throne room... to the rippling sand of the arena. He knelt at a similar point near the west curve, River in her place of honor at the front, the changeable girl still huddled in the center.

In spite of himself he was amazed that the girl was not crying or begging; she seemed instead calm, accepting of her fate- or at least of the futility of attempting to alter it. And then he watched as River's arm extended out slowly, her thumb parallel to the floor. She wavered a moment, the barest shiver of indecision. Then the men still at her sides turned, surrounding the front of her throne in a semicircle, the points of their spears leveled a hair's breadth from their mistress's throat.

Under the desperate need to save River from harm and spare the strange girl before them, that same sense of something being terribly amiss with the situation flared again. Never in a millennium would River allow such threats, such insubordination. Where were her weapons, her guards, her loyal aides? Who would help her if she could not help herself? Who--

All thought fled his mind as her wrist slowly began to turn...

"River- NO!" He screamed- yet despite the ringing echo in his head, no sound issued from his throat. He tried again and again, mutely pleading as he was held immobile- helpless to do anything but watch as her hand tilted further, her thumb tipping, tipping--

 

He woke with a start- soaked in a cold sweat, shivering with adrenaline, sick with fear that burned in the pit of his stomach like a torch. _It had been a... dream?_ It had been a dream. _By the gods..._ He plowed his hand through his damp locks, shoving them off his forehead as he sought to breathe. For all his brains, he was no soothsayer- he could not divine and interpret, only analyze and figure. Yet it was clear something needed to be done. The problem was, he had no clue what. Or why. Or how.

River stirred beside him, a little moan of annoyance escaping her as she half turned onto her back. "What's wrong," she asked sleepily. He drew in a few deep calming breaths, letting out a shaky exhalation while he figured out what to say.

"Uh... bad dream." Despite his lack of fluency when it came to deception, she didn't seem to notice. Instead she gave a little nod, turning the rest of the way to face him and reaching for a cloth to dip in the basin of cool water she had left by the bed. She wiped his brow, swept the cloth down his neck and arms, and eased it across the bare expanse of his chest. Setting the cloth aside, she grabbed a length of toweling and dabbed his skin.

"I don't get those anymore," she murmured in the quiet. The Doctor had no reply.

When he began to shiver beneath the calm, she drew the covers up close around them and tucked herself into his side. Her voice was a gentle command on his skin. "Sleep now. I'm here." The Doctor felt a warmth in his chest at her words; if anyone could keep bad dreams at bay with their mere presence, it would be River Song.

He wrapped his arms around her and drifted off into a calm blank sea.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I just re-read AVO so many times it infused my dreams- not that I'm complaining. but that's where this came from- a dream, ending where the Doctor's did.  
> comments are appreciated. questions (if you have them) are welcome.


End file.
